


Coming Home

by BarlowGirl



Series: Babies and Junk [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Babies, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, shameless self indulgance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 16:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7471482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarlowGirl/pseuds/BarlowGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale has a baby. Stiles is entirely unsure how to handle this fact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (I hate this title, don't judge me.)
> 
> So quite some time ago now, [Memekon](http://memekon.tumblr.com//) and I were talking Sterek and babies and I started writing just for the two of us. I was thinking we'd talk a little, and then go on to something else. Turns out that plot bunny decided it was going to run marathons, and I have an almost 75k document of baby fic.
> 
> So what I'm going to do, is, that will be divided up into parts. Those parts will have chapters, and after this random Tuesday posting, I will try to post a chapter every Friday until I run out. (I might miss a couple weeks when I get my wisdom teeth out at the end of July. I'll see what I can do.) Each part will be complete when I start it, but this is an on-going series for basically ever, because I enjoy it, but there will not be cliffhangers or anything. It's more slice of life than anything.
> 
> This is, as it's tagged, shamelessly self-indulgent. Don't expect perfection here :P There will also probably be too much description of food, and links to cute baby stuff. Because it's fun for me.
> 
> For a bit here I had a thing about coffee, but I briefly forgot how certain laws worked, so how about you guys just come hang out with me on [Tumblr](http://barlowstreet.tumblr.com/post/151220254193/well-theres-a-bio-under-this-read-more) if you like what I do here?

Derek has never driven more carefully in his life. Over the years, he’s been through a lot. A lot of horrifying, awful things. And he doesn’t think he’s ever been more terrified of something in his life.

Beacon Hills look exactly the same in the way small towns always do. He hasn’t been here in years, but it hasn’t changed at first glance. It’s nearly midnight, and he doesn’t see anyone outside as he drives to the small house he’s been living in for the last couple months. The street is a quiet one, with good sized yards and good mortgage rates – suburbs, basically.

He pulls into the driveway, and turns off the engine.

Okay. Now how does he get the baby from the car into the house?

It definitely takes him a few minutes to get the carseat off the base, and by the time he has, the baby has opened her eyes. She doesn’t look like she quite trusts him right now, and frankly he doesn’t blame her. One of the first things he did since she’s been alive was get on a plane for a two hour flight with her from Seattle, then the long drive from the airport.

“So this is where we’re going to live,” he says as he takes her into the house, closing and locking the door behind them. “I have your room all set up.”

Hopefully she’s like owls when she’s old enough to like things. Or they can change it to something she likes, but he really does hope he made good choices. He’s been buying things in the city and in Seattle, flying back and forth to decorate the nursery and set the rest of the house up, driving some of his things that he didn’t trust to the moving company.

When they found out about her, he knew he wanted to come back here. There’s a thousand horrible things that happened in Beacon Hills, but this is also where he grew up. This is where her grandparents lived, and he wants to be able to show her where the house used to be, and where he went to school. Even after years in Seattle, this feels like home. Deep in his bones, this feels like where he should be with her.

“You should probably be sleeping right now,” he says, turning the light on in her room. “How about we get out of this thing and see what we can do about some food?”

Derek exhales. They can do this.

 

 

 

They’ve gotten settled in okay the past few weeks. She seems to trust him a little more now that they’ve spent more than a few days at a time in one place. He’s tried to get as much of a routine into place as a person can reasonably expect with a one month old, both for her and for himself. As much as possible, he tries to do the same things every day for both of them, at the same time.

So getting a surprise visitor probably feels stranger just because it is so out of the usual.

“I wanna see the baby,” Scott says as soon the door opens.

Derek feels the hair on the back of his neck go up, and shifts a little in front of the door, blocking more of it. “What are you doing here?”

Scott breaks out with that dorky grin that makes him look sixteen again. “Dude, you had a kid! That’s amazing. Here, I brought you a loaf of banana bread and some baby stuff.”

He shoves a giftbag into Derek’s hands.

Derek hesitates a moment. It’s not that he thinks Scott will hurt her or anything. They talked through texting, bare bones of a conversation, focused above all on whether or not Beacon Hills was safe for the baby. But there’s still a cautious feeling at the back of his head. A part of him that isn’t sure he’s ready for anyone else to be near the baby. But he’s pretty sure that’s a less than human part of him, so he pressed it back and lets Scott in.

“She’s napping right now.”

“I won’t wake her up,” Scott promises as he goes to peek into the bassinette Derek has set up in the living room so she can sleep close to him while he works. “Oh my God, she’s perfect. What’s her name?”

“Grace.” Her name is Grace; he thought about Talia and Laura and more, but he didn’t want her to feel pressure to live up to someone else from her own name. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure,” Scott says.

It’s incredibly strange leaving her alone with someone else, and Derek isn’t quite sure he likes it. Cora flew into Seattle to meet the baby after she was born, but Cora needs distance and space, so it’s just been the two of them most of Grace's life. He’s pretty sure the only reason he can even bring himself to do it is that he can her breathing from the kitchen. Probably he’s going to need to work on that at some point. He can’t see her wanting him to go to college with her.

She’s just… she’s still really small, okay?

He thinks wistfully about coffee – he’s pretty sure that it’s mostly placebo, that it metabolizes too fast to actually make him feel anything, but he’s got a two week old baby, so he’s going with it – but he does not have the patience to leave the baby alone with Scott that long, so he grabs a couple cans of Coke and decides that’ll have to do.

“Thanks,” Scott says, barely taking his eyes off Grace. “God, I can barely believe she’s real. She’s about a month now, right?”

“Yesterday, yeah.”

Scott sits back and pops the top of his drink. “I don’t want to probe, but I think there are probably some things I should know. Is she a werewolf? Are there going to be, like, people showing up wanting her or anything?”

The back of Derek’s neck goes stiff. “ _No_ ,” he says, hard and low. “Nobody is coming near her.”

Scott holds up his hands. “I just want to be prepared. She’s going to be safe here. And this is part of making sure of that. You brought her here for a reason. Let me do my part, okay?”

To his eternal annoyance, Derek feels weirdly relieved. Probably some True Alpha bullshit, because, seriously, it’s fucking Scott McCall. But… he isn’t actually wrong. The pack Scott has acquired over the years is strong, loyal, and kind. He’s known to take in refugees and lost souls, and it’s earned him a lot of allies over the years.

Derek sighs, rubbing his jaw. “There’s just me. Her mother is human. She was… a friend. She didn’t want kids. She knew I always have, so…” he gestures at the bassinette. “Well, that part’s obvious now, I suppose.”

“No weird supernatural family?”

“No family,” Derek says shortly. That isn’t Scott’s business. It was barely Derek’s business.

Scott nods. Then he grins. “So, is she a little werewolf baby?”

For a moment, Derek stares at him. How has he gotten so far and yet still be so clueless? “She’s too young to know,” Derek says finally. “She could be either. It won’t manifest for a few years.”

“Is it less likely because her mom was human?”

“I don’t think so. My dad was human, and we were three for three.”

“I didn’t know that.” Scott holds out his hand across the kitchen table. “Welcome back, man.”

 

 

 

To Derek’s shock, Scott is weirdly good with babies. He shows up just to see Grace, and after a couple tense visits Derek says fuck it and goes to take a shower that isn’t either snuck into a naptime, or with the baby in a bouncing seat next to the tub. He is not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, Scott is genuinely wonderful with her. He seems to have a huge soft spot for babies, and patiently makes funny noises and pretends to eat her toes. Even though, really, she’s a month old. She has no idea what he’s doing.

Life with a baby her age is a little strange, too. Cora Skypes often, and they text regularly. They have a better relationship like this than they ever could have had living in each other’s hair. She’s too used to being on her own. She needs to be somewhere else, needs distance and space. And he thinks they’re too much alike. She’s super excited to be the cool aunt, though, in her words. But she’s still far away, in Argentina with her horses, and besides Scott coming over a little too often – and he’s starting to get a little concerned that Scott’s getting baby fever – Derek isn’t really seeing that many people.

And, he’ll admit, he’s always been more of an introvert. He spent a lot of time where it was just him and Laura. A lot of time alone. He’s used to it, and, really, he’s not a people person.

He lasts almost a month like that before he starts getting cabin fever. He puts diapers and other baby stuff on Amazon Prime, which is an amazing idea, whoever thought of that, and he’s been leaving Grace with Scott during naps to run errands. Beacon Hills is small, though, and Derek has a deep freeze. Errands don’t take long enough for him… and it is indeed him… to get too much separation anxiety But he also hasn’t left the house for more than an hour at a time in almost two months for anything besides doctor appointments for the baby, and he is so desperate for adult conversation that the mail carrier is starting to be afraid of him.

It’s time to take her somewhere.

So he bundles her up – in summer, in California – in about six layers, and has to leave three in the car when she gets hot, and very, very angry at him. The diaper bag is packed with more stuff than he used to actually own during parts of his life. But they make it out of the house alive and they go to a coffee shop because he’s got a small Armageddon’s worth of groceries already and the people at the grocery store are beginning to judge him.

He really needs some adult conversation.

Cora hung up on him last night when they Skyped. The mailman is terrified of him, every cashier who recognizes him checks him out extra fast since he once mentioned he had Grace waiting at home, and Scott has been out of town for a few days. Derek is missing _Scott_. The desperation is real.

A coffee shop seems like a good option. He heads inside with the carseat, and is a little disappointed that it’s almost empty. But he heads up to the counter anyways. At the very least, he can get coffee and spend a little time away from the house.

The barista starts to speak as he turns around. “Hi, what can I – why do you have a baby?!”

Stiles. Derek freezes for a minute, shocked. Holy shit. The last time he saw Stiles… gods, it must have been before they all even graduated. He looks the same, but more finished, somehow, like he’s done growing in the years since high school. The softness in his face has melted off, and he’s finally stopped using so much hair gel.

“She’s mine,” he says after a moment.

Stiles leans over the counter as far as he can. “Let me see. Oh, yeah, I can totally see that. She looks like you. Hi, baby Hale.” He straightens. “What do you want? My treat. Consider it congrats for making a person.”

Derek orders something sweet but not complicated, and gets a table near the counter. Stiles brings a muffin along with the coffee, surprising Derek. And he lingers, which is… nice. Stiles – they were never exactly _friends_ , but they were something. Allies, maybe. And he was always a talker, right?

It’s not until an hour later and his third cup of coffee that he realizes that Stiles is, you know, working and he should probably think about working. He makes an excuse about Grace’s naptime and is grateful no one can tell he’s lying. She doesn’t have a set nap schedule yet, and he doesn’t mind if she conks out in public. All the better to help her get used to sleeping through noise. If she’s like him, he doesn’t need her waking up whenever someone sneezes.

And it isn’t until he gets home and he’s making up bottles that he really thinks about the sound of Stiles’ heart when he looked at Grace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of POVs in this chapter. BECAUSE I CAN.
> 
> Again, I had something about coffee here, but briefly forgot how certain laws worked, so how about you guys just come hang out with me on [Tumblr](http://barlowstreet.tumblr.com/post/151220254193/well-theres-a-bio-under-this-read-more) if you like what I do here?

Beacon Hills Coffee and Tea is not Stiles’ first choice of jobs. First of all, do people in this town have any creativity when it comes to names? Everything has Beacon in it, practically. What is up with that? Also, he’s constantly burning himself on the milk steamer. Honestly, he took it because it was too late in the summer to get anything else, and they took him because it was too late for them to get anyone else to fill the position. He’s pretty sure they won’t ever want him back, and he’s pretty much okay with that.

But he’s home for the summer, and his dad said if he didn’t find a job and _“leave the freaking house, Stiles”_ , one of them was going to be dead by the end of summer. And it’s not that he didn’t want to. It’s just that he’s in his third year of college, and partying has gotten old. And Lydia’s in Paris for the summer being amazing and Scott keeps sneaking off to do _something_ , and, weirdly, it’s not Allison-related. Stiles checked. She just laughed at him, and then laughed more when he asked to hang out with her. Apparently she has a job and summer classes, and, no, she can’t come over and kick his butt at COD.

Rude.

So. It’s a job.

And then Derek Hale walks in.

Stiles hasn’t seen him since probably before he left for college. And he’s still… well, he’s still Derek. Big and dark and wearing jeans that should be illegal except _why does he have a baby?_ Stiles asks as much as soon as Derek gets to the counter, and gets murder eyebrows for his comment. Derek glares and says that the kid is his.

Yeah, Stiles can see it, when he practically climbs over the counter to check her out.

“Hi, baby Hale,” he says, and she glares at him with tiny baby eyebrows.

Definitely a Hale.

He’s still working, with customers and stuff to do, but he comes over to talk at Derek whenever he can get a moment away, and sometimes when he probably shouldn’t. He can’t believe Derek’s back in town. He can’t believe he has a _kid_. Christ, that’s amazing. She’s like an actual real baby and everything, with fingers and a name and eyebrows. They leave way too soon, and it feels like his shift drags on forever until he can go on break and call Scott.

“Why did you not tell me that Derek Hale had a baby, Scott McCall?” Stiles demands immediately when Scott answers.

“Not my thing to tell. Isn’t she awesome?”

“When did she happen? Does he have like a wife hidden away somewhere we don’t know about either? What’s the kid’s name?”

“She’s about three months old,” Scott answers. “Her mom’s an ex. Don’t ask Derek; it isn’t your business. Grace.”

Stiles sits down on one of the lawn chairs in the back alley. “That’s a good name.”

“Yeah,” Scott agrees.

 

 

Scott has known Stiles a very long time. More of their lives than not. Scott has learned to recognize when something sticks in Stiles’ brain, and when it won’t let go. So when he starts pestering about going with Scott on one of his Grace visits, it really doesn’t take that much pestering. Honestly, as far as Scott is concerned, Grace is a perfect beautiful baby and everyone should want to know her. Plus, he’s seen Stiles get near babies before. Mostly it ends in flailing and running away, so if nothing for nothing, it’ll probably be hilarious.

And it is, but it isn’t, because Derek’s heart does stupid things when he sees Stiles and Stiles’ heart sort of stops, and then thuds all over the place, and seriously, these two.

Derek kind of looks like shit. His clothes smell like he’s been wearing them too long to be comfortable, and he’s covered in formula. He stammers something about Grace not sleeping, and Scott has never felt more sympathy for Derek Hale. Babies are hard, man. Scott spent a summer working at a day care, and the day each week he had to work in the baby room was the most terrifying, exhausting day of the week. Maybe, also, Scott feels a little guilty that despite how tired he looks, he’s also never seen Derek look happier.

He’s still constantly working on the whole Be A Better Scott McCall thing, as Stiles calls it, and, honestly, his mother raised him better than that. Plus, you know, fat baby feet and the little bellies, and the milk and baby powder smell. Baby snuggles are the best.

So he takes Grace from Derek, touches her feet because they’re so tiny and soft, kisses her head, and hands her to Stiles at least a little just to see what happens. He’s not expecting Stiles to just sort of freeze, but, yeah, that’ll work. He can't walk into things or trip over himself like that. Scott’s not sure who’s more surprised, though. Derek, Stiles, or Grace. Stiles looks like he thinks if he moves, she’ll explode, and Grace is staring at Stiles like she’s not exactly sure what to think of him yet.

That’s a pretty common reaction to Stiles, though, Scott has learned. Derek did basically the same thing.

Eventually he breaks up the staring match between Derek and the top of Stiles’ head - Stiles and Grace are still staring at each other – and sends Derek to go take a shower and sits Stiles on the couch.

And then he goes and does some dishes and grumbles for a little while because he’s giving up his baby snuggling time here so Grace and Stiles can bond. He knows he’ll have to wait out Derek and Stiles - Derek won’t talk about this kind of thing, period, and Stiles blushes and runs away when Scott tries to bring it up - but seriously, the sacrifices Scott makes for that dude. Stiles better make one darn good best man speech when Scott marries Allison.

 

 

Of course Stiles showed up while Derek was wearing sweats that were probably older than him, and a tank top he’s been wearing for two days. Of course he showed up when he was covered in formula stains because he was so tired that he actually dropped a bottle and splashed it all over himself, and couldn’t be bothered to change and it was just Scott coming anyways, so what did he care what he looked like?

And then Stiles showed up. And his heart was racing all over the place, and he smelled amazing, and what is even happening here?

Derek… well, he always knew Stiles was attractive. It’s hard to look at him and _not_ know that. But it wasn’t even remotely an option. Stiles was a kid, and Derek couldn’t – _couldn’t_ – let himself look at Stiles like that. He was a cute kid, then, mouthy and irritating and beautiful, but he never would have let himself think about him like that.

But now Stiles is holding his kid.

And he can’t breathe.

After he showers and drags himself back downstairs, Stiles is still holding the baby, and looking a little more relaxed, and a little less like he’s worried she’s going to kill him. And if Derek sits a little too close to him on the couch, well, there aren't that many people who have held her yet and nobody can blame him, right?

No more than they could blame him for falling asleep on the couch ten minutes later.

Possibly in the middle of a conversation.

 

 

The thing they don’t tell you about single parenting is that, yeah, you’re exhausted and everything, but it also gets so boring. Besides Cora and Scott, he still doesn’t really have anyone to talk to regularly. Scott started doing something he thinks is helpful, by stealing his shopping list and having someone drop off groceries, but they only knock and leave the bags on the porch. The mailman has started sneaking up on the house and running away at a speed that slightly concerns Derek that he might actually not be human.

And it’s not like he can hang out at the coffeeshop all the time. He’s not that pathetic... yet. Even though he’s still kind of stunned at the way his stomach bottomed out when he saw Stiles holding Grace, even though he’s... yeah, he’s not going to be the jerk constantly hanging around a coffeeshop in the middle of the day with a baby.

But he has Stiles’ cell number. Has since... well, since Peter, since the hospital, since everything started, basically. When he left the last time, before Scott & Co. graduated, when he realized he needed to be gone, he’d been in Seattle for a couple months when he got a text from an unknown number. Just a, **_hey_** , first. Then a, **_crap, sorry, it’s Stiles. Phone got eaten_**. And he’s just... he’s kept Stiles in his contacts, even if they don’t contact each other for years, because isn’t that what you do? Isn’t that why he has a number for Laura that hasn’t worked in almost a decade?

Derek’s been pacing for a while now. Grace is a little antsy today. He’s not entirely sure which one of them started it, considering his own restlessness. So, he’s holding her with one arm and staring at his phone in the other hand.

“You liked him,” he says to Grace. It’s not like there’s anyone else to talk to, and he read that talking to them as much as possible is important to develop language skills. It makes him feel horrifically awkward still, but she seems to like his voice. Sometimes when he’s talking, she goes quiet and just looks at him, and it’s like nothing he’s ever experienced before. “Didn’t you? Think you could tell me what to do?”

And then he ends up in a conversation with the three month old debating the pros and cons of it.

When his phone goes off, he almost drops it.

No, okay, that's a lie. He nearly flings the damn thing across the room. He has to talk himself into being convinced that it’s anyone but Stiles before he can look at the text. And, of course, who else would it be from?

And all it says is, **_So bored. Need a baby-sitter or something?_**

And then, while Derek is still starting at the phone in a semi-panicked shock, comes, **_Never mind, I don't wanna be left alone with anybody who can't talk._**

Derek snorts and slightly relaxes as he sends back, **_How would you even tell the difference?_**

Stiles doesn’t really talk that much, but it was a perfect set-up to rile him up a bit.

And sure enough, he gets back an **_eff-you_**. And he replies with something appropriately sarcastic as he goes into the kitchen and alternates staring into the cupboards with staring into the fridge, and wanting absolutely nothing in any of them. He should eat lunch, but he is so sick of his own cooking.

And then suddenly he’s texting Stiles about how unappealing the food in his house is. And Stiles is texting back how bored he is and how all he’s eaten today is Doritos and gummi bears because he's too lazy to cook on his day off and his dad is at work and then…

And then Derek accidentally asks Stiles out.

He seriously considers immediately setting his phone on fire.

“This is at least half your fault,” he tells Grace. She is definitely the reason he is sleep deprived, and he definitely needs to blame at least fifty percent of the horrific thing that just happened on sleep deprivation.

Holy shit.

He hasn’t been on a date since... well, since Grace’s mom. And she asked him out! He’s not cut out for this kind of thing, not anymore. And now he has a kid to think about and he was not planning on even _thinking_ about dating as a single parent until she was walking, at least. Frankly, he was vaguely considering cats as a lifestyle choice.

His phones goes off with a text.

He puts it facedown on the counter and walks away.

A moment later, he’s back to grab it.

All it says is, **_Sure ;)_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not that taking babies to coffeeshops makes you a jerk.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be up yesterday, but I forgot til after dinner, and then the internet went out and I fell asleep before it came back on. Sorry! Next week might be funky, because of my wisdom teeth removal. I'll get the next chapter up as soon as I can.
> 
> If you like what I'm doing here, come hang out with me on [Tumblr](http://barlowstreet.tumblr.com/post/151220254193/well-theres-a-bio-under-this-read-more).

It’s not a date if you bring your three month old, is it?

Derek can’t decide if he wants it to be a date.

He puts Grace in her crib and turns on the little aquarium thing that’s supposed to help soothe her to sleep but really just _fascinates_ so he can shower and scrub with the weird body wash with the beads that Cora gave him and wash his hair twice because gods, he's disgusting, when did that happen? He could have sworn he showered the day before. Two days before?

Dear gods. At this rate, he’s going to have to put a reminder in his phone.

“You are a menace,” he tells Grace as he sets her down on his bed. All he has on is a pair of jeans that he pulled on after his shower. Somebody started complaining that they weren’t getting enough attention before he could finish getting dressed. “Quit making that face at me. Even if you’re adorable, you’re still a menace.”

He steps back over to his closet and pulls on a shirt, trying a few on while keeping an eye on Grace and trying to work out by her noises if she approves of any of them.

Right about when he realizes he’s trying to get his three month old’s opinion on his clothing choices is when he also realizes they're going to be late. So he puts on the shirt that she seemed least offended by and races out the door. And he only goes back three times to get something he's forgotten. It’s definitely an improvement.

The restaurant isn’t anything fancy. Stiles is a college student working at a coffee shop, and while Derek would be perfectly fine treating him to a meal, he’s not entirely sure if Stiles would let him, or would want him to. Besides, he’s not going to take his very small infant to a high-end restaurant. A family friendly restaurant is much better suited for everyone here. It’s named Beacon something, of course. What isn’t in this town?

Stiles is already there. He’s talking to the waiter, and Derek isn’t sure if he knows the kid, or if he’s just being Stiles. Laughing, his face lit up.

Derek is basically a zombie compared to him.

A zombie awkwardly carrying a giant carseat and diaper bag.

Then Stiles sees them and his face does an impossible to understand Stiles things. And his heart does a thing. A very weird thing. He kinda half-stands up and waves like Derek isn't looking right at him and, okay, Derek relaxes a little. Stiles is probably the last person Derek needs to be smooth around.

Derek puts Grace in her carseat on one of the chairs at the table Stiles is at, shoves the diaper bag under it. Stiles looks a little nervous as Derek gets them settled in, giving her a pacifier and a toy to keep her quiet and amused, making sure she’s not too cold or too warm. Possibly just fussing a little to try and settle his own nerves. Stiles’ staring is not helping matters.

Derek finally meets his eyes, raising an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

To his surprise, Stiles doesn’t rise to the bait with a smart remark or sarcasm. Ignoring Derek completely, he reaches over and brushes his finger oh-so-gently against Grace's fist, ignoring the fact that said fist had just been in her mouth, and looks absolutely stunned when she grabs onto him.

“Hi,” he says, soft and vaguely stunned.

Grace does one of Derek’s favourite things, and smiles from behind the pacifier so hard you can see it around the edges, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

Derek might need a minute.

It’s not that Grace is a hard baby. Derek knows this. Derek remembers Cora being an infant. Derek KNOWS this. Grace sleeps pretty well, isn’t colicky, doesn’t have any allergies they know about yet. She gets bored, which is something he didn’t actually know babies _did_ , but, really, in the grand picture of things, she’s pretty easy. But the thing that they’ve been dealing with, and he’s not sure if it’s a possible future werewolf thing or just because she’s his, or because their social circle is so small, but...

She kinda doesn’t like people?

Well, that's not true. Derek's pretty sure she likes him. Most days. They’ve had their issues, but generally he’s fair confident saying that she likes him. And she let Cora hold her when she came to visit them, and she likes Scott. Scott and Grace get along in a way that Derek will never understand. But she's not great with new people. She cries and fusses and when Derek takes her back, she looks at him like he's betrayed her and quite honestly it kind of breaks his heart. He’s never been that fond of people himself so if their social circle needs to be small until she’s older, so be it.

But she let Stiles hold her.

She seems to like him.

Derek is going to have to think about that more later.

They order and talk and Grace makes noises like wild trying to insert herself into the conversation. Stiles talks back to her, exaggerating his expressions to get a reaction out of her, and it’s like the best of both worlds to have someone who wants to interact with her but also manages to have an adult conversation at the same time.

Mostly adult. It’s still Stiles.

But it is so good talking to him. Derek has so missed being an adult who talks to other adults. There are still moments where he has nothing to say, partly because... well, he’s been talking mostly to himself and Grace with occasional Scott and Cora conversation for three months. But even without that, he’s never quite been talkative, he knows. Regardless, Stiles is good at picking up the slack. Even the quiet moments are easy with him.

They’re about halfway through when Grace starts fussing and Derek automatically reaches for her to remind her he’s there. Sometimes she just wants a hand on her stomach so she knows she’s not alone. This isn’t one of those times. He tries a new toy and the pacifier, but when none of that works, he's starting to reach for her when Stiles kind of flails in his general direction and makes a noise around a mouthful of sandwich that could possibly be a word.

Derek pauses, smirking. “Are you choking or something?”

Stiles swallows and wipes his hands on his napkin. “Would it be okay – can I try holding her?”

 

 

Stiles is going to brave. He has decided that he’s going to be brave. They both survived the last time he held the kid, and he keeps _thinking_ about it. The tiny weight of her, and how warm and soft she was. She makes noises when he talks. And Derek is right there if he does anything wrong, so it should be okay, right?

Right.

The carseat thing is weird and complicated, and makes absolutely no sense, and Derek has to help him lift her up. Not the best start. And then there’s the squirming – the squirming is terrifying. There is _floor_ down there. Stiles isn’t entirely convinced that babies aren’t just constantly trying to kill themselves, and considering his own tendencies towards injury, maybe he shouldn’t be trusted with them.

And why is she so small anyways?

After a moment, she’s tucked in against him. Miraculously, she settles down, and seems content to check things out from a new point of view. But she seems actually impossibly small. Stiles is intellectually aware that babies are usually a lot smaller when they’re all freshly baked and everything, but even at three months old, it seems like she shouldn’t be allowed to be so small.

Stiles touches her foot. One has a tiny green sock on, and one is bare. His pinky finger is longer than her feet. Impossible, man.

“Where’s your other sock?” he asks with a bit of a laugh.

Across the table, Derek rolls his eyes. “Don’t get me started. She hates having anything on her feet. Winter’s going to be so much fun.”

Stiles has a few little second or third cousins that he sees pictures of on Facebook or in Christmas cards now and then. A bunch of them are really blond, and when they were babies, they had like no eyebrows. Secretly, Stiles thinks it’s kind of hilarious.

Well… Grace has Hale eyebrows. Strong, a little dark, and, as he’s looking at her, she frowns fiercely at Stiles.

“She looks so much like you,” he says to Derek without looking up from her. He rubs his thumb gently against the crinkle in her tiny forehead and she makes a surprised face and... and she’s warm and soft and tiny and slightly irritated at him and he might be a little in love.

 

 

Derek is not expecting the knock on his door at two in the afternoon. He doesn’t have anyone coming over, as far as he knows. They’re stocked up on diapers and groceries, and Scott didn’t say anything about coming over.

“Should we answer it?” he asks Grace. “Or pretend we’re napping?”

He should probably set a good example, so he scoops her up and heads to the door.

Stiles.

“Hey,” he says, and hands Derek a white paper bag. “I brought you coffee and day-old pastries. Just finished my shift.”

“Thanks,” Derek says sincerely. “Do you want to come in?”

“I’ve gotta run, actually. Just wanted to drop that off.”

The next day it’s coffee and muffins, and later that week, breakfast sandwiches and hash browns before one of Stiles’ morning shifts. And that, that is definitely not a free perk from working at a coffee shop, as Stiles had called the other things. That was something he’d paid for, something he’d gotten specifically.

This time, Derek stops him before he bolts. “Do you have some time before you have to go to work?”

“’Bout an hour, why?”

Derek glances over his shoulder. “Grace was up at the ass crack of dawn. I was thinking about taking her for a walk. Sometimes it helps her settle down. And if I start talking to the trees, people look at me weird.”

Stiles’ mouth drops. “Was that a joke? Did you just–”

“I change my mind,” Derek interrupts. “Go away.”

“Nope, you’re stuck with me now. Go get your jacket, and your kid, and everything, and let’s go.”

It’s still really early in the morning, the air cool and a little damp from last night’s rain. Grace falls asleep almost as soon as they get around the block, and Derek gives a sigh. Good. Sleep begets sleep, they have learned together. A tired Grace is not a happy Grace, and an unhappy Grace lets everyone around her know she’s not happy, loudly and angrily. After that, he relaxes and eats and drinks his coffee.

They don’t talk much, but it’s comfortable. Just two people in the early morning taking turns pushing the stroller so the other person can eat with both hands. Just a quiet space between them, filled only with the sounds of songbirds and people leaving for jobs, the scuff of Stiles’ sneakers on the pavement and Grace’s sleeping breaths, calm and gentle as the stroller wheels turn.

Comfortable.

 

 

“You kind of look like a turtle,” Stiles says in the living room.

Derek grins as he grabs a handful of silverware out of the dishwasher. He’d never say it, but Grace does sort of look like a turtle when she’s hanging out on her stomach doing “tummy time” to make her neck muscles strong. An adorable turtle, obviously, but… still a turtle.

He finishes putting the dishes away, gives the counter a quick wipe with a disinfecting wipe, and goes to lean against the doorframe of the living room. Grace is on a blanket in the middle of the living room, and Stiles is lying in exactly the same position, making faces and playing with her toys with her. Well, to be accurate, he’s mostly waving them around and narrating in weird voices while she tries to eat the stuffed animals. But she’s five months old, so same thing, really.

“Let’s go to the park,” Stiles says suddenly. “We can all have lunch there.”

It’s a Saturday in late summer, so they’re not the only ones who have had the idea for a picnic lunch. All over the grass there are clusters of families with blankets and kids running around.

Grace immediately starts chewing on the blanket. And then she tries to gnaw on the strap of the cooler, and follows that up with yanking up a handful of grass and trying to eat that. Honestly, Derek isn’t entirely sure who stresses more about that, him or Stiles.

“Dude, there’s bugs and stuff over there,” Stiles says to Grace as she wiggles on her stomach, trying to escape into the grass.

“I think that’s part of the appeal.” Derek plops her back in the middle of the blanket. “Do you think that means she’s ready to start solids?”

The books and websites say to watch for signs of readiness, and Derek thinks trying to chew on everything is probably one of them. She’s about the right age to start, they all say.

“I have no idea, man.” Stiles flops down across the blanket, kicking his shoes off. He’s close enough that Grace can lean back against him – she’s not quite sitting up on her own yet. “I can’t believe how much she’s changed already. How do you tell when they’re ready to start on big people food?”

Derek is a little embarrassed by the next ten minutes of debating _at_ Stiles he does. Meanwhile, Stiles gets a bottle out of the diaper bag, and feeds it to the baby, needing only a touch of help from Derek. He’s really getting the hang of it.

Eventually, Derek sighs. Grace has fallen asleep in the shade. “It’s big,” he finally admits. “It’s a big milestone, like when she rolled over for the first time, or the first time she laughed. It just seems so fast. The next thing I know, she's gonna be walking and talking and then she'll be in school and dating and off to college and–”

“Dude,” Stiles interrupts, laughing. “Maybe you should start with getting her to eat solid food before you freak out about college. Besides, it’s going to be amazing watching her grow up. She’s gonna be an awesome kid.”

Gods, she’s gonna be a kid. Like a real one, like one of the ones running around in the park climbing the jungle gyms and swinging and talking. Derek can’t imagine it, not yet.

“Plus, you're gonna be the second best dad,” Stiles says. “Mine is the best, obviously, but you’re a very close second.”

Not long after, Stiles passes out on the blanket next to Grace. Derek should probably wake at least Stiles up, but… he’ll just let them both sleep for a while longer.

He’s still thinking about what Stiles said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Grace's aquarium](http://barlowstreet.tumblr.com/post/147854546618/i-need-a-post-to-link-to-a-picture-hold-this)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas in July!
> 
> I'm probably going to post this right before getting my wisdom teeth out, so this is probably a day early, but I don't know if I'm going to be up for it on Friday.
> 
> So, if you like this chapter, maybe come hang out with me on [Tumblr](http://barlowstreet.tumblr.com/post/151220254193/well-theres-a-bio-under-this-read-more) because I imagine by the time you read this, I will be feeling pretty rough.
> 
> I'm so glad you guys have been enjoying this so far!

In September, Stiles goes back to college and Derek is shocked by how much he misses him. They text, a lot, and it’s weird because it’s Stiles, but it’s also weird because it’s not really weird at all. Because it’s Stiles. At least once a week, sometimes more, they Skype, and Derek usually has to clean off his laptop screen at some point because Grace doesn't quite understand the computer thing. She always tries to reach out and touch Stiles like he should be there within her grasp. Derek's laptop ends up covered in little fingerprints and spit smears from a certain somebody who likes to chew on her fingers.

She misses him, too, Derek thinks. She cries sometimes when they hang up, and nothing Derek does can make her happy again for a while. He even gets desperate enough once to call Stiles in the middle of the night, and Facetime Stiles’ horrible off-key singing for her until she settles down.

The drive to Stiles’ school is long, and he has a job there because a Sheriff’s salary only goes so far. Between school and work, he doesn’t have any time to come home until Christmas break. And Derek... the holidays are hard for him sometimes and he may or may not have needed to spend a couple days hiding in the house with Grace cuddling and playing and not being around anyone, really, or answering his phone.

But a few days before Christmas, when he lets Scott come over to see Grace, he’s invited to dinner at the McCalls on Christmas Eve.

“Everyone's gonna be there,” Scott says, pausing to blow raspberries on Grace’s stomach, grinning when she shrieks with laughter.  “Me and Allison and Mom and the Sheriff and I know Stiles misses you guys. Just... come, okay?”

Derek gets the distinct feeling that Scott is trying to tell him something that’s honestly going over his head – and _that_ a weird feeling when it comes from Scott – but he eventually nods and agrees that they'll be there. It’d be good for Grace to spend some holiday time with other people. That’s what he remembers from being a kid. Family from everywhere coming to stay with them, people crammed into every corner like sardines, noise and scents and love.

That’s what he wants for her.

So they’ll go.

But they’re going to be late, because Derek loses the only tie he owns and never does find it, but gets sweaty and gross looking for it and has to run through the shower again. He’s not even sure if it’s a tie sort of occasion, but it would have made him feel better to at least know where it was, he thinks.

Since it’s gotten cold, even snowing lightly here and there, he’s started using leggings and thick tights on Grace for warmth, and the tights are always harder to get on than he expects them to be. She also kind of hates them at first, and pouts and fights whenever he puts them on her, but they’re warm, and _she_ can’t get them off, and that’s the important part. If he layers them under pants, she usually forgets about them eventually, unlike socks, which are her absolute least favourite thing in the world.

Today, though, it’s a dress, which means she’s still looking at her legs like they’ve betrayed her. She looks so darn cute in it, though.

“Give them a shot before you decide you hate them,” Derek says as he buckles tiny black shoes over the white knit tights. “You’re sadly going to have to get used to shoes at some point. At least sometimes.”

She frowns at him, not at all convinced.

The flowered headband he adds just because it is ridiculously impractical, but something about the giant flower makes him smile. She doesn’t mind _those_ , of course. Just things on her feet.

They’re late, but they get there, and that’s what matters, right?

Then he’s standing on the McCall’s front porch juggling Grace and her diaper bag because at almost nine months old, she still travels with more stuff than he ever imagined possible. He’s working on getting a hand free to ring the bell when Stiles opens the door.

He kind of just stares at Stiles for a long moment. Gods, he’s a sight, Derek thinks almost involuntarily. Computer and phone screens don’t do him justice.

“Uh,” Stiles says, swallowing. “Scott told me you guys were out here. Thought maybe you could use some help.”

Derek nods, completely unsure what to say until Grace practically yells “Ti!” and pitches herself forward so hard that Derek has to grab her stomach with his other hand to catch her, his heart lurching.

Stiles looks like he might need a steadying hand, too, when he asks, “Did she just...?”

Derek hesitates, the back of his neck going hot. “Uh... probably, yeah. I mean, yesterday she called me “hi” so, you know, don't get upset if she doesn't say it again. But she probably heard me saying it earlier. Repeating is a... thing.”

Because he'd been talking to her constantly as they got ready, like he always does, since she loves when people talk to her, loves “talking” back even though most things aren't words yet, and... well, maybe he’d mentioned Stiles once. Or twice. Or a lot.

They get broken up by Stiles’ father who yells at them to stop heating the neighbourhood and shut the door. The house is already crowded with people. They’re probably the last ones to get there. Immediately, Scott wants to hold Grace, and it turns into pass-the-baby when Melissa complains she hasn’t seen her in ages, and she’s the first baby. Maybe in a couple years she’ll have some friends to play with from someone, but for now, she’s the first, and it’s new for everyone. Considering it’s her first Christmas and Derek’s pretty sure she’s never been around this many people at once, he’s shocked by how long she lasts before she bursts into tears as Isaac takes her.

Isaac looks hilariously panicked.

Derek is standing up to go get her when the Sheriff beats him to it.

“I've got her, Derek,” he says in the gruff but gentle way he has, and tucks her in nice and close.

Derek relaxes. The sheriff raised Stiles. If anyone can handle this, it’s him.

Ten minutes later, Grace is sitting on the Sheriff's lap playing with a Christmas board book that Derek knows he's never seen before. She’s trying to eat it, sure, but the Sheriff sneaks a teething ring into her hands and she listens while he reads the book to her, frowning very seriously at it.

Derek gets dragged into the kitchen because apparently his mashed potatos are “Legend - wait, for it – dary”. Melissa makes Stiles start washing the dishes in the sink for that joke.

This is a completely new experience for him, honestly, cooking in a group of people like this. He remembers this from when he was a kid, but he never had a role like this. Crammed into a kitchen with Melissa and Scott and Stiles, brushing elbows and talking. Stiles goes red-cheeked after the one glass of wine he’s allowed. It feels good, though, and he can relax because he knows that Grace is safe and comfortable, and he doesn't have to worry about her.

He can, and this is shocking to him, socialize. With adults.

Well, he thinks, a few minutes later, watching Stiles drop an ice cube down the back of Scott's shirt, one adult and Scott and Stiles.

He expects to have to hold Grace through dinner and he’s honestly used to that. He’s eaten many a sandwich with her on his knee working on his laptop while she plays with whatever fruit he put on the side of his plate and maybe eats some of it, depending on whether she's decided on liking banana or watermelon or whatever this week.

And, no, he’s not ashamed to admit he puts it there so she leaves his food alone when she demands to be held right as he realizes he’s been awake since six in the morning and it’s the middle of the day and he hasn’t eaten a thing.

But as they’re putting things on the table, Derek pauses with a bowl of mashed potatoes and watches as the Sheriff straps her into a high chair with the kind of expertise that can only come from a man who raised Stiles.

“Bibs in the diaper bag?” the Sheriff asks, already unzipping it, and it’s all Derek can do to nod. A moment later, Stiles walks around him and sets down a basket of rolls.

“Scott and me found that,” he says hesitantly, like he expects Derek to be angry with him. “Yard sale. Barely used. Great price. We thought - I thought - well, it seemed like - we wanted to-“

The sheriff claps Derek on the shoulder and interrupts Stiles. “What my son’s trying to say is, you and Grace are always welcome here. And at our house. And we wanted you both to be comfortable.”

Stiles just nods.

Melissa pulls a bright blue plastic plate out of the cupboard, and between her and Scott asking him what Grace has tried and making sure she hasn’t had reactions to anything, and Stiles piping in with things she likes, there’s a couple tablespoons of almost everything.

And it is a feast. Mashed potatoes, carrots mashed with cinnamon just for her, stuffing, cranberries, green beans because vegetables are important, Derek tells himself even though he's never been much fond of green things himself, rice and beans, mashed sweet potatoes, roasted turnips and parsnips and other root vegetables, a chunk of a buttered roll, a piece of a tamale. Right about when the Sheriff hands a piece of turkey to Stiles and Stiles starts shredding into small pieces, Derek realizes that she’s either gonna have a heyday with everything they're giving her, or refuse to eat anything.

The sheriff’s at the head of the table because, as Melissa put it, whoever sits there is stuck carving. Stiles and Melissa are on either side of him, with Scott on the other side of Melissa and Grace in her high chair between the Sheriff and Stiles. Derek sits next to Stiles and maybe he should feel guilty because he’s not stuck wrangling his kid for once, but mostly he hasn’t eaten something that little fingers haven’t tried getting into since she started solids.

And he’s going to enjoy his non-toddler fingers touched meal with relish. He’s seen Stiles eat fries. He trusts the Sheriff to make sure Grace lives through the meal.

“God, she's grown up so much while I was gone,” Stiles says at one point, half a roll in his mouth already.

Yeah, the Sheriff will be fine with Grace

Derek grins at his plate. “She's starting to look at me like I should know what she's saying when she babbles and I'm somehow betraying her when I don’t.”

Melissa sighs, reaching over to ruffle Scott’s hair. “And then they grow up to be teenagers and do the same thing,” she says fondly.

Grace tries everything and seems to like most of the things fairly well. She doesn’t enjoy the cauliflower and Derek hasn't seen a lot of things funnier than the face she makes when Stiles gives her a tiny piece of a pickled beet. Apparently she’s not a beet fan. But all in all, it’s a great meal.

They sit around afterwards talking for a while until somebody feels like eating dessert enough to get up. Stiles takes Grace out of her high chair and holds her when she starts getting restless. Derek has seen him hold her before. It doesn’t make sense that it still catches him right under the heart when he sees Stiles holding his kid.

And then there’s pie and flan and cheesecake, and everybody groans about being too full but eats anyways while they talk more. Derek wishes Cora was there, because he misses her so much, but it’s also okay that she’s not. She needs space and freedom (and part of him wants to sing that Dixie Chicks song at her, but part of him doesn’t ever want her to know he knows it). Beacon Hills isn’t her home. He’ll call her later and wish her a Merry Christmas. And he and Grace can go see her when Grace is a little older and travels a little easier.

It’s just... it’s nice being around people who care about them. This is why he brought Grace back here, he realizes, although he never thought it would be like this. He needed this for her.

After cleaning up, Stiles eyes the Christmas tree, bounces a few times and blurts, “Can we open presents?”

The sheriff points out that it’s only Christmas Eve with the patience of a man who has had the same conversation many, many times over many, many years.

Stiles says, “Just one? Or, okay, can just Grace open hers? I wanna see her reaction.”

Derek blinks. “You got her a present?”

Stiles laughs. “Half the things under the tree are for her.”

Pretty much everyone there agrees they got her something.

Huh.

Watching Grace unwrap presents is an experience Derek will never forget. Partly because Melissa records it. But also because she’s never done it before and she doesn’t really seem to understand why she’s doing this, but man she’s having fun ripping the paper. She does eventually get tired of it and Scott and Stiles end up opening the rest. There’s stuff like books and a piggy bank shaped like an owl and a pack of fingerpaints he thinks will be a lot of fun when she gets a little older.

But the present that Stiles seems most proud of is the last one. He insists on Scott not touching it, and hands it directly to Derek. Derek opens it with Grace on his lap, and he goes still when he opens it.

It’s a board book and on its own, it doesn’t appear all that special. Except it's a photo album. Yellow, and with a picture of Grace on the front. Derek flips it open and has to press a kiss against the top of Grace’s head to keep from blurting anything that he probably shouldn't say in front of so many people. And on film.

Stiles scoots closer, flipping pages and pointing out pictures. Pictures of Grace, pictures of Derek, Cora, pictures of the Sheriff and Melissa and Scott and Allison, pictures of Stiles.

And then towards the back there’s...

Oh.

“How did you even...?”

“Internet,” Stiles says. “Facebook. Talked to a lot of people. There’s more, but that's your present. Surprise. Sorry. I just... well. It’s an album of all the people who love her. Seemed only right that her whole family be in there.”

Derek traces a picture of a grinning Laura with his fingertip and nods.

Eventually they all end up sitting around watching some cheesy Christmas movie that Scott picked out. And Stiles feeds Grace a bottle – really, Derek should take her home and get her to bed, but he doesn't want to leave and if he has to deal with her being cranky tomorrow, he will – because he insists, says that Scott’s right and baby-snuggles are addicting and he hasn't had his fair share yet. When she falls asleep, Derek takes the empty bottle and puts it away, then offers to take her.

Stiles just shakes his head and settles down a little more comfortably.

After the movie, they really do need to get going, so Derek makes his excuses - and a trip to his car with Scott to get all the presents Grace got and to bring in the ones he forgot for everyone else - and Stiles carries Grace to the door once everyone has said goodbye to her and Derek.

“I miss her,” he says at the doorway, swaying gently. “And I mean, I know I see her when we Skype but... I miss her.” He takes a breath, exhales slowly, and add, “And you.”

“We miss you, too,” Derek says, and it’s true, but it’s more than that, so he adds, “I miss you, too." Then he reaches over, because Stiles doesn’t have shoes on, and takes his kid. The house is full of werewolves and parents so he can't actually say what he wants, so what he says is, “Come over and see us soon. Okay?”

Stiles nods. “Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Screenshots of Grace's dresses and headband [here](http://barlowstreet.tumblr.com/post/148085213423/random-picture-post-for-the-baby-ficmore%22). You guys know the song, right? Making pretty links is hard.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Christmas, because what else is better for August? If you're enjoying this, come hang out with me on [Tumblr](http://barlowstreet.tumblr.com/post/151220254193/well-theres-a-bio-under-this-read-more).
> 
> Sorry this is a day late! I had a really long day yesterday and didn't trust myself to proofread.

Christmas day is quiet. Derek and Grace spend it at home, just the two of them. He dresses her up in another dress just for the heck of it. He doesn't know how long she’ll let him put her in things like that so while she also wears overalls and jeans and shirts with dinosaurs and trains and stuff, sometimes dresses happen. Today there are leggings, too, so she doesn't get cold playing on the floor, but no socks because, well, it’s Christmas. Another headband, though, hot pink to match her outfit.

He indulges both of them. Opens presents slowly so she’s not overwhelmed. Makes himself a breakfast that isn’t a protein shake, a hasty bagel, or something from a drive-through for probably the first time since she was born. Snuggles down with her halfway through the morning to watch a couple of cartoons while she flips through the board book album, babbling to the people she knows and the people she doesn’t until she falls asleep. After her nap, Derek and Grace play with cars and he talks and she makes noises back. They talk to Cora on Skype at one point and she’s got a garland crown on and looks happier than he’s ever seen her and he’s so proud of her that it hurts in the best possible way.

Later, while Grace plays in the corner of the kitchen he has set up with toys for her, he texts back to the dozens of people wishing them Merry Christmas, wondering when he ended up with so many people in his life that he could actually stand, and starts dinner. It’s not huge, just some roasted chicken, potatoes and some vegetables, but it's good, solid food and after yesterday, it's perfect.

After, he watches Grace playing by just one lamp and the lights of the Christmas tree. It’s not very big, maybe four feet, and it’s on a table where she can’t reach it with a baby gate around it because he knows his child, but he figured he might as well at least get one - and he’s content. Happy, even, he thinks.

It’s been a long time since he celebrated the holidays, honestly. And he’s pretty sure that next year will be different, but for this year, spending Christmas Eve with people and Christmas alone with Grace was just right for them.

 

 

The day after Christmas, it snows. Derek realizes this when the doorbell rings and he opens the door to see Stiles, red-cheeked from the cold and grinning and snowflakes clinging to his eyelashes.

“Hey, you,” he says and for a moment, they both just stand there staring at each other because apparently that’s a thing they do now.

Then Derek shakes himself out of it and invites Stiles in like an adult instead of staring at him like a... well, like a lovestruck Scott. Offers him coffee since it’s cold out and is halfway through making it when Grace starts crying upstairs.

Stiles can’t hear her yet, but he sees when Derek goes still and looks at the roof. “Want me to go get her?”

“Wait a minute.” Derek gives her a little to see if she'll go back to sleep. Learning to self-soothe is important and, as much as he wants to rush up there and comfort her the second she whimpers, he also wants her to have the opportunity to learn to do it. When she’s ready. For a little bit.

Okay, so he usually breaks after about two minutes, but whatever. It’s not like he can spoil his baby. Her needs are simple at this age, and when comfort is one of them, it’s not something he’s going to deny her.

“Yeah, she's sounds like she's up,” he says to Stiles. He glances at the clock and shrugs. “Close enough. But fair warning, she’s cranky today.”

Stiles shrugs. “She's still my favourite girl, cranky or not.”

Derek can’t do anything but nod at that. He finishes making the coffee, not entirely not listening to Stiles go up the stairs. He not entirely accidentally overhears Stiles walking into the nursery and talking to Grace as he picks her up. There’s some noises up there, and more of Stiles talking to Grace, and after a minute, Derek realizes that he’s doing a diaper change.

And... there have been a lot of people in his life who want to fuck him. He knows it sounds terrible to say that, but he knows how he looks and, well, that’s life. Sex is sex and that’s okay, sometimes. And there have been people who like him well enough to date and don’t want to murder him but aren’t serious, aren't long-term. And that’s okay, too, sometimes. But he’s not entirely sure he's ever had someone who cared enough to change his kid’s dirty diaper. To take care of her needs just because they wanted to.

He’s smiling down at his coffee when Stiles and Grace come downstairs.

Stiles comes down the stairs carrying Grace like a pro. She has her head on his shoulder and is pouting like Derek took her penguin away to wash it again.

“Somebody's a grumpy gus,” Stiles says. Then, because Derek isn’t having enough of an epiphany today, Stiles proceeds to turn his head and press kisses against Grace’s round cheeks until she reluctantly smiles.

Derek clears his throat and slides a mug of coffee, black, 2 sugars, down the counter. “She's used to a consistent schedule. We kind of completely ignored it for two days.” He shrugs. “We'll get back to normal pretty soon here.”

“Yeah.” Stiles pauses to smack a loud kiss against Grace’s cheek that has her giggling. “That's kind of amazing, isn’t it? I mean, there were times when I thought we’d never have a normal life. And now look at us. My dad actually snuck out after I fell asleep last night and I caught him doing the walk of shame this morning. Scott texted me a string of words I could barely make out besides the part where he begged for air freshener.”

Derek snorts a laugh. “That’s good, right?”

“It is.” Stiles rubs Grace’s back, his fingers stroking over the few wisps of hair she has. There’s not much yet, really, but Derek’s a big enough man to admit that he’s probably going to cry at her first haircut, even if it’s only the tiniest trim. “And… I’m in college. I left and it was okay and I came back and that was okay, too. I made friends and I did a lot of new things and none of that is even a big deal because it’s normal.”

“Normal is a big deal,” Derek says.

Stiles nods. “And you have a kid who’s amazing and you’re an awesome dad, man. I just… I never thought we’d get here.”

Derek didn’t think they would either. To be honest, he wasn’t expecting to survive to this age. Thought Cora would, _hoped_  beyond hope Cora would survive to carry on the Hale name, but didn’t have hope for his own odds of living to thirty. Had given up, more than once, even. And now, he’s got somebody that he’d do anything to get home to at the end of the day. Somebody who needs him to come home.

A few minutes later, watching Stiles sit on the living room floor playing with his grumpy kid while his coffee gets cold, he thinks… he thinks maybe that’s two somebodies.

 

 

The second time that Grace smacks Stiles with a truck, Derek intervenes because Stiles is starting to look like a little like he’s about to cry.

He looks up at Derek with the saddest damn eyes Derek has ever seen. And he’s seen the aforementioned pout of a certain little girl whose favourite stuffed penguin is being washed. “I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s not you,” Derek interrupts as he picks Grace up. “She didn’t sleep great last night either so she’s getting frustrated that you’re not doing what she wants you to do. Which very well could mean she wants you to turn into a frog or fly or something,” he says with a quick grin. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Right.” Stiles glances at him, then looks away. Derek’s pretty sure he’s still upset right up until his eyes land on the window and he frowns in the way that Derek has come to recognize means he’s thinking. Derek has also come to be reasonably afraid of that look over the years. “Hey. You got like boots and stuff for her?”

“Yeah…” Derek says slowly.

And that’s how he ends up bundling up his baby – who was previously only in a pair of leggings and a t-shirt because it was so not worth it to deal with socks today – in her brand new snowsuit that he just “gave” her for Christmas and the boots she’s been wearing for a couple weeks now but still isn’t quite used to, and mittens and a hat, and taking her out to see snow for the first time.

She won’t let him put her down at first. It’s not until Stiles plops himself down on the snowy grass and lifts his arms up that she lets go of Derek’s jacket.

There’s maybe an inch of snow on the ground. Derek’s spent winters in places that would laugh at the idea of that amount being anything to write home about. But he supposes for someone Grace’s age, to who everything is a first, it’s a lot.

As for Stiles’ excitement… well, he’s lived in California all his life so Derek will give him a break and won’t tease him. Take pictures of his phone of him and Grace playing, yeah. Of the way Grace frowns when Stiles lets her take her mitten off to feel a handful of snow – and oh, how Derek has to restrain himself when she does that – of how Stiles laughs, open-mouthed and the corners of his eyes crinkling, when she babbles excitedly at him and shoves snow into his hands.

But he doesn’t tease.

Grace could probably stay outside playing for the rest of the day, even when her nose and cheeks are red with the cold and most of the snow in his backyard has footprints and there’s a tiny, crooked snowman right in the middle of the yard that Derek took a picture of Grace sitting next to. But when Stiles starts to shiver and doesn’t seem to be able to stop, it’s probably time to go inside.

“Sitting down in the snow in jeans was such a bad idea,” Stiles says through chattering teeth as he kicks his shoes off. “My butt is soaked.”

Derek grins up at him from where he’s stripping off Grace’s snowsuit. “I wouldn’t say it’s the dumbest thing I’ve seen you do…but then I've seen you do a lot of dumb things.”

“Hey!”

He stands up with Grace on his hip. “Maybe you should…” _go home_ , he means to say. It’s sensible. Stiles is soaked and it’s getting late. He needs to start getting dinner ready himself. “You could borrow something from me,” he says instead. “Stay for dinner?” He glances at Grace and smiles at her. “What do you think, Grace? Should he stay? Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says. He knows that she has no clue what she’s agreeing to and she’s just repeating him, but he’s going to let himself believe she’d agree if she could.

“Okay,” Stiles says softly.

Derek nods, tells him he can shower if he wants to warm up, too, and goes to start cooking before he starts to think about Stiles in his shower while he’s holding his kid.

He talks to Grace as he bustles around, asking her opinion on what he should make. There’s some fresh stuffed pasta he got on sale the other day and he takes out a container of pasta sauce he made a couple weeks ago from the freezer. It defrosts quick and small amounts of it aren’t too acidic for Grace if he mixes it with a little butter. He has mini-bow-tie pasta for her that she likes and she’s getting pretty good at eating it on her own, too. She still mostly thinks cutlery is for chewing on and throwing on the floor, but her pinscher grip is going strong.

There’s leftover chicken, too, and he shreds a small amount of it for her, along with microwaving some frozen peas and carrots for her so they’ll be cool enough to eat by the time everything else is done. She’s sensitive to warm food, he discovered the first and so far only time he didn’t wait long enough for her food to cool down. Turns out there’s nothing to make you feel like an asshole like your kid crying because her food hurt her fingers.

Not enough kisses in the world to make him not still feel a little guilty about that.

Derek presses a kiss to the top of Grace’s head.

Stiles comes down the stairs smelling like soap – like Derek’s soap and if that’s not one of the most potentially addicting scents he’s ever encountered, Derek doesn’t know what is. His hair’s slicked back in a way that should look ridiculous but somehow doesn’t, and he’s wearing a pair of Derek’s sweats that don’t fit him at all and a T-shirt that hangs off him. No socks.

“Put your stuff in the dryer,” Derek says, staring at the pot of sauce to keep from staring at Stiles for too long.

To be honest, with how hard they played this afternoon, Derek was sort of expecting both Grace and Stiles to start dozing off in the middle of dinner. He’s honestly surprised when Stiles only cracks two or three yawns and Grace only has a couple too-long nods. Stiles eats ridiculous amounts of… everything… and Grace, after having decided today that anything he deemed to serve her for breakfast and lunch was completely uninteresting, eats more than he’s possibly ever seen her eat.

She also ends up with spaghetti sauce in her hair. And in her ear. And… okay, she ends up with spaghetti sauce everywhere.

“Zesty Italian flavoured baby!” Stiles jokes as he unsnaps her bib.

Derek pauses. “Really?”

Stiles just grins.

Derek glances at the clock. “Well, the zesty Italian flavoured baby needs a bath before bed, anyways,” he says, putting the last of the dishes in the sink. “Do you want to stay?”

Stiles lifts Grace out of the high chair. “I love baths. Can there be rubber duckies and stuff?”

Derek’s been on his own with Grace for nine months now. There are people there to support them, something he’s only just getting used to. There are people who are absolutely amazing in their lives that love Grace fiercely, but he’s gotten used to being a single parent. Scott baby-sits here or there, but Derek hasn’t had a night where he hasn’t been there to do their bedtime ritual. Maybe once or twice there’s been someone else there in the kitchen or living room, but by this time in the evening, it’s usually just him and Grace.

He grins slowly. “What other kinds of baths are there?”

Stiles fucking winks and Derek has to roll his eyes and head for the stairs so he doesn’t get caught blushing like he’s fifteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Grace's Christmas Day outfit,](http://barlowstreet.tumblr.com/post/148548730393/hold-this-please-tumblr-i-need-a-link-more) because baby clothes are fun, and how cute is that?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are done this first work! I hope you guys have been enjoying it. I really appreciate all the comments and kudos. If you've been liking what I do here, come hang out with me on [Tumblr](http://barlowstreet.tumblr.com/post/151220254193/well-theres-a-bio-under-this-read-more).
> 
> Also, just for the record, I had a weird urge to declutter, and I am mildly stoned on nail polish fumes. So if there are typoes, I apologize.
> 
> I think this one might be a tiny bit longer than the last ones.

Evenings are a ritual these days. Bath time is a process, honestly, but it’s one that makes bedtime easier and also, honestly, he really loves the time with Grace. Usually they’re both a little tired, but relaxed, and it’s just… it’s a nice time of the day.

Derek bathed her in the sink probably longer than he should have. He had the baby tubs and everything, but every time he looked at her and looked at the bathtub, it seemed way too big and he just wasn’t ready to do it. And then Cora sent her a pack of floating truck toys that she fell in love with and she was big enough to sit up on her own and the splashing to try and play with said truck toys ended up with more water on the floor than in the sink, and Derek admitted he probably should move her baths to the big tub.

So now there’s a little step stool thing he sits on next to the tub because, man, werewolf or not, kneeling on the floor for a whole bath is hard on the knees, and a non-slip mat on the bottom of the bathtub. There’s a faucet cover in the shape of a whale that makes him feel utterly ridiculous every time he showers, and a space heater that he flicks on because the upstairs can be drafty sometimes and he worried about her getting cold.

He gets out the towels and a fresh diaper out while Stiles undresses Grace. She’s getting squirmy and Derek watches with a grin while he runs warm water into the tub. It only takes a few minutes to get to the couple inches she needs for a bath. Then he turns the water off, tosses in a handful of bath toys, and turns around just in time to see Stiles bend down and blow a raspberry against Grace’s stomach. She giggles, and that is Derek’s favourite sound in the world.

“The bath needs a baby in it for this to really work,” he says and Stiles laughs.

That isn't a half bad sound either.

A few minutes later, Stiles is sitting on the floor next to the tub next to the tub. He leans forward and picks up one of Grace’s ducks. The look he gives Derek is probably the most judgmental look he’s ever seen.

“You found a black rubber duck?” Stiles asks. “Did you buy it just so it’d match your wardrobe?”

Derek roll his eyes. “I don’t believe I own any shirts with green polka dots.”

Stiles shakes his head. “Your daddy bought a rubber duck just to match his clothes,” he says, sing-song, at Grace.

Derek leans over and grabs something off the counter.

“I don’t even have words right now,” Stiles says.

“Either you help or you quit making fun,” Derek says as he pulls on the ladybug shaped bath glove. He also has ones shaped like a dinosaur and a monkey, but Grace likes the ladybug shaped one best. Also, he dressed her up as a ladybug for Halloween and took her to the McCalls’ house and ended up with ridiculous amounts of candy from Allison and Scott both. She was obviously the most adorable ladybug ever. He can’t help but be fond of ladybugs since then.

“I’m not making fun!” Stiles protests. “It’s cute.”

Derek gives him a dark look before getting to work washing Grace down. He has a pretty good internal timer of how long her baths can be before things start getting ugly and she’s had about enough time to play now. She doesn’t really have enough hair for him to need to shampoo more than once or twice a week and, honestly, today is mostly about washing the spaghetti sauce out of it.

“Hand me the towel?” he asks Stiles and picks up the cup of warm water he’s had on the side of the tub since before she got in the tub.

Grace is not… particularly fond of rinsing the shampoo out of her hair. He tilts her head back so it doesn’t run into her eyes and gets it over as fast as possible, but she still starts crying nine out of ten times. Luckily, the little wisps of hair she does have never take more than the one cup of water and he gets her out of the tub and into the towel as soon as it’s empty.

He wraps her up in the towel, pulling the hood up over her head and tucks her in nice and close against him.

“It’s probably a good thing she doesn’t have a lot of hair yet, huh?” Stiles says, reaching into the tub to drain it.

Derek snorts. Baths are gonna be so much fun when she’s not basically bald.

Once she’s settled down, he lays her down on another towel, still all wrapped up. The bathroom’s nice and toasty so he usually stays in here for their after-the-bath routine. There’s diaper cream and a fresh diaper and then baby lotion rubbed all over her to keep her skin from drying out. She’s usually pretty calm for this part, relaxed from the tub and the warm water, and he talks to her softly, pausing whenever she wants to make noise to let her get her say in.

Finally, he zips her into a pair of warm pajamas and picks her up. He runs a soft-bristled baby brush over her hair, gently. She doesn’t really get tangles, but it’s probably good to get into the habit for when she’s older and she seems to like it.

Or, at least, she doesn’t seem to hate it.

Derek climbs to his feet, shifting Grace to rest against one shoulder, and holds out his hand to Stiles to help him up.

“I’m just gonna go warm a bottle up for her,” he says.

Stiles nods. “I’ll clean up.”

Derek tries to argue that he doesn’t have to, but arguing with Stiles when he sets his mind on something is like arguing with the rain and by the time he gets back upstairs to Grace’s room, the bathroom is clean and Stiles is waiting in her room.

“You want to choose a book?” Derek asks, since Stiles is standing close to the bookshelf anyways.

Stiles takes a moment to pick while Derek gets into place on the rocking chair. He sets the bottle down on the table next to it and sets Grace down on his lap. When Stiles brings over a book a moment later, Derek smiles. “Good choice.”

“My mom liked Eric Carle,” Stiles says.

Derek nods, and gestures at the ottoman. When Stiles sits down, Derek opens the book and starts reading to Grace. It’s the board book edition of The Very Hungry Caterpillar. Grace likes to poke her fingers into the holes in the book as he reads and he has to read it twice before she’s satisfied enough to snuggle down for her bedtime bottle.

She’s mostly asleep by the end of the bottle and thank the gods, because his cranky child seriously needs some sleep. When he starts to stand, Stiles stops him with a gentle hand on his arm, then leans forward and very carefully kisses the top of Grace’s head.

Derek loads the dishwasher while Stiles insists on wiping down the counters and table. It’s completely different having someone there after Grace is asleep. Usually, it’s dead silent in the house and he has to turn on the television in the living room just so he doesn’t feel completely creeped out by the empty house. But Stiles is about the last person to be silent and it’s easy to talk to him.

Then he turns around when the dishes are done and Stiles is right there. Derek takes a step back out of surprise, bumping into the counter behind him.

“I need to tell you something,” Stiles blurts, running a hand through his hair in that way that makes it stand up on end and kind of makes him look like a mad scientist.

When he doesn’t say anything else, Derek reaches over and rests his hand on Stiles’ arm. “What is it?”

Stiles swallows, hard. “Okay, see the thing is… the thing is, I kind of absolutely love your kid. She’s seriously one of my favourite people in the world and I can’t actually imagine my life without her. And I know I’m young and you have to look out for Grace and I completely understand that, but I think – I want – I –”

Derek takes the last half step forward, closing the distance between them, and kisses him.

Kissing Stiles is amazing. It’s like the cool air after a thunderstorm on a hot day, like cold water after the hardest run of his life, like something that he’s wanted for years and only just realized how much. Before he knows it, he’s pressed back against the counter again. Stiles has one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his hip and Derek doesn’t know where to put his hands besides wanting to put them everywhere.

It’s probably a good thing that Stiles pulls back first because Derek isn’t even close to thinking about doing it.

“Holy crap,” Stiles says, dropping his forehead against Derek’s. “A plus, man.”

Derek snorts. “Thanks. I know you love her, by the way. And she loves you.” He clears his throat. “I also don’t totally loathe you.”

Stiles grins. “I don’t loathe you either.”

They end up on the couch at some point. Before that point, though, there’s more kissing against his kitchen counter, and Stiles grabbing cans of root beer out of Derek’s fridge, and Derek tossing a load of laundry into the washing machine because laundry never ends around here. While he’s there, he pulls Stiles’ clothes out of the dryer and leaves them on the shelf over it, folded neatly but there. He blushes when he tucks Stiles’ briefs under his shirt, blushes hotter when he can’t help wondering if it means that Stiles is either wearing a pair borrowed from Derek or nothing at all.

There’s a baby monitor on his coffee table and a moment of Stiles grabbing him in the middle of the living room and kissing him until his head spins, and there’s cleaning up the toys that somehow end up everywhere no matter how many times a day he cleans up and tries to teach Grace to put things away – it’s a work in progress – and Stiles pinching his ass when he leans over to grab some of Grace’s blocks and making him drop everything he’d been holding and laughing, eventually, at the way Stiles cackles when he does.

Then there’s a movie on his television and they’re on the couch and there’s more kissing.

And it’s good, Derek’s fingers making a mess of Stiles’ hair and the kisses making Stiles’ mouth red and soft and swollen just a little and Stiles grinning like it’s the best thing ever when he finds a good spot to touch or kiss. But also, they talk, ignoring the movie most of the time, with Stiles admitting he hasn’t been out with anyone in at least a year and Derek laughing and saying the last person he dated was Grace’s mom and Stiles talking about school and Scott and his dad and Derek talking about Grace because, right now, at least, she’s pretty much his whole world and he’s okay with that. He absently mentions his work only to have Stiles pry more details out of him.

The movie ends and they’re both more asleep than awake when there’s noises on the baby monitor. Derek stirs, rubbing Stiles’ back when he does the same, and waits. When she starts to cry, he sighs and begins to extricate himself from under Stiles.

Then she stops crying.

Derek freezes, half-terrified that something has happened, and pitches his hearing up so he can hear her upstairs and not just on the monitor.

She lets out a loud sigh and settles back into her normal breathing pattern.

“What?” Stiles prods him. “What’s wrong?”

“She went back to sleep,” Derek says. He has to kiss Stiles then, to celebrate, but it’s kind of hard to kiss someone when you’re grinning. “We’ve been working on self-soothing. Except I couldn’t let her cry if my life depended on it,” he admits, but he’s smiling up at Stiles so hard his face hurts. “She’s such a good baby.”

“You’re a giant dork,” Stiles says, but his voice is soft.

“You can stay if you want,” Derek says at some point. It’s getting late and he knows a certain little girl who will wake up earlier the later he stays up, somehow, instinctively. On the rare occasion he stays up until midnight or later, he becomes concerned he’s raising a future evil supervillain. “Have breakfast with us in the morning. Not – I mean, I don’t–”

“When we have sex, I’m going to take my time with you,” Stiles says bluntly. “Not the first time when we’re both exhausted.”

“Yeah,” Derek says, gratefully. “I’d like you to stay.”

Derek has gotten into the habit of wearing pajamas solely because of Grace. There was a point where he slept fully dressed, ready for whatever fight or threat was next. Then, when things were quiet and safer and he hadn’t been attacked in months, he ended up in fewer and fewer clothes until he was back to sleeping in his underwear like he had when he was a teenager, the way he’d preferred.

Now, he’s taken to sleeping in pajama pants partly because it’s too cold to wander around in his underwear in the middle of the night when Grace wakes up and partly because he’s somewhat brain-dead in the morning and he really doesn’t need to traumatize the mailman when he forgets to put on pants.

Again.

 

 

When Grace wakes up, Derek is stumbling out of bed when Stiles pushes himself up on his elbows.

“Want me to go grab her a bottle?” he mumbles.

Derek shakes his head. “I’ve been weaning her off night feeds.” He yawns. “Go back to sleep, okay?”

“You can bring her back if you want,” Stiles says, settling back down. “I wouldn’t mind snuggling up with my favourite girl.”

She’s still crying softly when he gets into her room and he picks her up right away. To tell the truth, he doesn’t mind too much getting up with her like this. He likes the idea of her learning that it’s okay to wake up and there’s no reason to be scared when she does, loves the idea of her feeling safe enough to fall back asleep all on her own, but he also doesn’t want her to ever feel like he won’t be there if she needs him.

“Hey, now,” he says softly, rubbing her back as she tosses her head against his shoulder. She doesn’t need to be changed and she’s not been getting hungry at night as often since she’s eating more solid food. He does a quick check to make sure she’s a comfortable temperature and that her pajamas aren’t bothering her, but he’s pretty sure she's fine. She’s just used to the comfort when she wakes up at night.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he croons anyways, stroking his hand over her downy head until she stills. “Oh, my silly girl. It’s very early, I hope you know.”

“My two favourite people,” Stiles says sleepily when Derek settles back into his spot in bed, setting Grace down between them.

Grace fits perfectly between them, Derek notices, not like when he brings her back to bed when he’s alone and he only half-sleeps, terrified of her falling no matter how far from the edge she sleeps. He doesn’t doubt that at some point he’ll end up with her feet in his stomach or his nose or something – for a very small person, she seems to think she deserves a very large portion of mattress – but for now, this is basically perfect.

“You just want snuggles, Gracie girl?” Stiles asks, yawning. “I totally get that, but we’re gonna have to eventually work on your methods of communication.”

“Shh,” Derek says, tucking blankets around Stiles and Grace. He’s not really sure who he’s shushing at this point, considering Grace is already going floppy and boneless with sleep next to him. He rests a hand on her stomach to feel her breathe, and a moment later, Stiles brushes his finger against her palm until she closes her fist around it.

Stiles grins, his face smushed into the pillow and his eyes already shut. “Love you,” he says, and Derek doesn’t know if he’s saying it because he’s more asleep than awake and it’s habit, between him and his dad, Derek knows, to say it all the time, or if it’s to Grace or if he means it or what, but his heart does a thing it’s definitely not supposed to and he’s suddenly never been so glad that Stiles can’t hear it.

 

 

The roof leaking wakes Derek up.

Or, rather, wetness on his face wakes him up, barely. He mumbles something, thinks about moving away from the leak, and then something soft and very damp presses against his cheek and oh.

Not leaking, then.

At least not from the roof.

“Good morning to you, too, slobber monster,” he mumbles. He reaches up without opening his eyes and runs a hand over her head and down her back, then vaguely flops his other hand in the general direction of where Stiles was the last time he looked. He eventually feels a face-shaped object under his hand and, ignoring Stiles’ protests, moves Grace close to him. “Love you, too, now go kiss Stiles for a while.”

“Oh,” Stiles says, sounding like he’s only just fully woken up. “Hi, baby,” he says, hoarse with sleep still. “You are very damp this morning, Grace. Okay, one more kiss. Are you quite certain you’ve decided it needs to be morning?”

A moment later, Stiles pokes Derek in the ribs. “Your daughter has decided it’s definitely morning.”

Derek sighs and holds out his hands for her.

Stiles pokes him again. “Hey. Why don’t you go take a shower while I change the rainstorm here.”

Derek sits up so fast he almost injures himself. “Deal.”

Showering is still something Derek treasures. He’s gotten better at timing them during naptimes, but there are still days where he’ll mean to shower all day, right up until he ends up falling into bed too exhausted to even think about it.

Stiles grins at him and covers Grace’s ears where she’s sitting on his chest. “Think about me,” he says, and Derek has never blushed harder in his life.

It is an amazing shower. He does everything he likes to do, not just a hurried shampoo and scrub, and he’s grinning when he comes downstairs feeling squeaky clean and new. Then he has to pause at the threshold of the kitchen to really take in what he’s seeing.

Grace is sitting in the kitchen sink, playing with one of Derek’s measuring spoon sets. Stiles is standing right at the counter next to her, nodding when she pauses to babble something at him as he mixes something in a bowl.

Derek takes a moment to snap a picture with his phone.

Stiles glances back for a second over his shoulder before turning back to whatever he’s doing. “Hope you like pancakes. ’Cause they’re the only thing I can cook well.”

“Love them,” Derek says, honestly, and he might be talking about more than the pancakes, but for now, only he needed to know that.

Derek crosses to the sink, giving Grace a very serious look. She gives him a very serious look back and he nearly breaks to laugh because, yeah, she has his eyebrows. She’s probably going to resent him for that when she’s older, but he thinks, on her, they’re the cutest eyebrows he’s ever seen.

“Good morning,” he says, again, very seriously. Then, because she is still little and, while he’s pretty sure she’s slightly ahead of the curve developmentally – rationally, emotionally, he think she’s Superbaby – he doesn’t expect her to perform miracles here, he adds, “Hi.”

“’i,” she says cheerfully back.

“Daddy,” he says and only feels slightly ridiculous with Stiles standing next to him.

Grace pauses and gives him her serious look again. “’i,” she repeats.

Derek snorts. “Okay, hi to you, too,” he says and drops a kiss on her forehead. "Good job."

“You do that every morning?” Stiles asks, grinning like he’s just barely managing not to laugh.

“Yes, we do,” Derek says, going to get a cup of coffee while he still has some dignity left.

Possibly Derek took a little longer with his shower than he thought, considering when he starts to get a bottle for Grace, Stiles has already fed her one. He should have known, really. She is not a patient child when she’s hungry.

“That’s okay, right?” Stiles asks, looking up from where he’s pouring pancake batter.

“No, yeah, that was good.” Derek hands Grace a piece of cantaloupe. She’s very fond of orange foods. Fortunately, along with the Kraft Dinner that he never remembers buying yet somehow always has and Cheetos that he certainly did not give her, _Scott_ , she also likes cantaloupe and carrots, mango and sweet potatoes, loves peaches and seems to like squash fairly reliably. The only orange food he’d tried on her and had bad results with were orange bell peppers.

Derek drops the fruit mix he keeps in the fridge onto two plates. Now and then he hands Grace pieces from the other container, which is the same stuff just cut smaller and without grapes or strawberries. Shortcuts like this make life a lot easier when he’s struggling to make breakfast on very little sleep with a certain little girl who is not very patient when it comes to food.

“I didn’t make anything for protein,” Stiles says with a frown as he drops a pancake into the dish in the oven that’s keeping an already made stack warm. “I burn eggs and I didn’t want to be playing with bacon fat. Plus I usually burn it, too…”

Derek glances over at him. “If you promise not to tell anyone, I’ll tell you where I keep the microwave stuff.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow and points the spatula at him. “Derek Hale, I am shocked. No, actually, I am shocked.”

“It’s good for sandwiches,” Derek says with a shrug. He looks at Stiles carefully, the way he’s chewing on his lip and frowning, and adds, “Grace usually has a bottle around ten before her nap, by the way. So don’t worry about her, okay? She can have some cheese for lunch. It balances out at the end of the week.”

Stiles shifts, his shoulders moving restlessly. “I just… feeding her is a lot more important than feeding me. I wanna do it right.”

Derek turns a grin on Grace. “She’s eaten dirt. And grass. And she got a handful of coffee grounds one day when I wasn’t really awake. Screwed up naptime all day.” He holds out his hands to Grace and picks her up when she happily raises her arms. “Some days, it feels like she eats more than me and some days it seems like she eats one cracker and is done.”

He carries Grace over to where Stiles is, leans in, and kisses him on the cheek. Then, as Stiles turns pink, he shifts so Grace can get her smooch on.

“I promise that it all balances out.”

Derek’s been giving Grace forks and spoon basically since she could hold them. Today’s utensil of choice is a double-sided fork/spoon combo – Derek refuses to use the word spork – that she seems to like fairly well. Well, in the sense that she hasn’t thrown it on the floor. As for actually using them to eat with… not throwing it on the floor is a good step, right?

So currently she’s holding the fork in her right hand and diligently picking up bites of pancakes with her left. She has a tiny drizzle of syrup that Derek will probably regret later, but what the hell, they’re pancakes.

Really good ones, too.

“You make good pancakes,” Derek tells Stiles, partly just to watch him turn red.

Afterwards, Derek wipes Grace down in the high chair while she can’t escape, cleaning away the traces of syrup he’s not sure how she got in so many places considering how little she had. He gets her changed into some play clothes – no socks – and ducks into his bedroom to pull on a pair of jeans and a clean shirt before taking Grace back downstairs.

Stiles has already got the dishwasher loaded.

Derek goes over to where he’s wiping flour and batter off the counter and catches his arm. Gently but firmly, he turns Stiles to face him. “Hey. You know you don’t have to do this stuff, right? I mean, I appreciate it, I do. But you don’t have to clean up or cook. You can just… be here.”

Stiles runs his fingers through his hair. “I don’t want you to have to wait on me hand and foot. I don’t… I don’t want to be like a guest,” he says. He reaches out, brushing the back of his knuckle against Grace’s cheek. “I want to be… I want to be part of your lives.”

“Stiles,” Derek says. “If you think that you could ever not be part of our lives, you’re kidding yourself.”

Then he just has to kiss Stiles again.

He sits Stiles down on the couch with a cup of coffee while Grace plays. The kissing is good… really, really good… good enough that they get distracted doing that for a couple minutes… but they need to talk.

And if Stiles would stop looking so damn cute in Derek’s shirt, it’d help a lot.

“I’m not expecting you to change,” is the first thing Derek says. “I wouldn’t want you to, okay? I like you being… you.” He reaches over and carefully cups his fingers over Stiles’ knee. “You’re young–”

“I turn twenty-two in two weeks,” Stiles says, frowning. “Dude, you’re only six years older than me. Don’t act like I’m still a stupid kid. ‘Cause I haven’t been a dumb kid since I was twelve.”

When his mom died. Derek swallows, nods. They’ve talked about this, a time or two. Derek knows how it feels to lose your family. He’s never going to forget how that feels. But Stiles… well, he was younger than Derek when he lost his mom. And Derek didn’t want to ask, because it seemed rude and insensitive, but they’d talked about Grace and how she might feel when she was older.

So Derek knows about his mom.

He reaches over to where Stiles is picking roughly at a hangnail, gently pulling his hands apart. “I’m not trying to say I don’t want you around. I’m just trying to say… you don’t have to – I don’t want you to feel pressured to do things for us. You can just be here. With us. I mean, I signed up this, but you didn’t and–”

“And what if I wanted to?” Stiles blurts.

Derek turns Stiles’ hand over, rubbing his thumb over the veins on the delicate underside of his wrist. “You – what?”

“What if I want to sign up for diapers and the baby in the bed in the morning when you’re too tired to settle her down and baths at night because she got spaghetti sauce in her hair and cleaning up after she’s asleep and days where she’s God-awful cranky and – and–” Stiles shoves an angry hand through his hair, leaving it on end. “Days where you get scared on me and try and talk me out of caring about you guys.”

Derek looks over at where Grace is playing, completely ignoring them both. “You have a huge future in front of you, Stiles. You could do whatever you want.”

“I have six months left of school,” Stiles argues. “Not even. And then I don’t actually know what I want to do with myself. The only thing I know is I don’t want to be floundering in the world alone in some strange place. I mean, I was planning on freeloading off my dad for a while until I figured things out, but coming home to you and Grace? That would be amazing, okay?”

Derek should probably say something so Stiles calms down a little and doesn’t give himself a heart attack. Derek would say something if he wasn’t stuck on “coming home”.

“I don’t know how to picture my life without you guys,” Stiles says while Derek’s brain is still broken. “I just don’t. I want you and her both sitting in the audience when I graduate and I wanna see her go to kindergarten and I want to… be here. Whatever that means.”

Stiles’ hands move restlessly under his. He’s not good at sitting still when he’s nervous, Derek knows. Bites his nails, chews on hoodie strings and straws and pens and anything else that’s around to torture Derek. This is probably killing him that he can’t do something to burn off his nervous energy.

If there’s something more endearing than Stiles trying to be still for a serious conversation, he doesn’t really know what that is.

Stiles shakes his head. “Look, a huge future doesn’t mean anything to me if it means my family won’t be in it. I can find a job. I can find a job in Beacon Hills that I like or that I love or I can find one I hate and live with it until something better comes along and I don’t care because I don’t even know what kind of job I want. But I know that I don’t want to miss watching Grace grow up.”

Probably Derek shouldn’t be grinning like this. Not when Stiles is still probably at least a little pissed. Except he can’t seem to stop and possibly parts of him have melted inside.

“You really want this,” he says, his voice softer than he means it to be.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “What clued you off, Hale, the fact that I want to plan my freaking life with you or the fact that I want to raise your kid with you?”

“Little bit of both,” Derek says, and honestly, he deserves it when Stiles rolls his eyes again.


End file.
